


Questions & Answers

by rarepairsinmycup



Series: Light It Up [6]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Families of Choice, Feels, Gen, Light Angst, Questions, Series, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 07:23:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14806892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarepairsinmycup/pseuds/rarepairsinmycup
Summary: Mira returns to the tavern and searches for answers.





	Questions & Answers

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Fairy Tail' nor am I profiting from this.

Mira runs through her impossible-to-sleep routines: deep cleaning, practicing her answers for sorcerer weekly and doing meal prep for the week. For once, their apartment is actually truly clean. Her answers are memorized and neither she nor Elfman will have to be concerned with cooking. Despite her efforts, she winds up perched on the edge of the bathtub, counting cracks in the tile floor. A shadow creeps over the tiles and up the walls, growing bigger and bigger until Elfman is standing in the doorway. 

“I can't sleep either,” he says and joins her. “I've moved the painting everywhere I can think, but I can't unsee those faces.”

“I keep waiting for her to wake up with nightmares. I guess Happy and Natsu really tired her out, though. Be sure to take them the extra dessert tomorrow.”

“Staying home and hiding won't change what happened with Ezra,” he says. “We have to get her used to socializing with others.” 

Mira purses her lips takes a deep breath and prepares for his reaction. “I am not avoiding anyone. I planned on traveling to that town where you picked Lucy up and questioning that tavern owner.”

Elfman does not leap up. He does not begin scream objections and demands she stay here. Instead, he slumps forward for a moment. 

“I know, I know, you're the one who picked her up, but Lucy is far more comfortable with you. I could use takeover magic but she would probably know, and that tavern owner only saw you once.”

“You’d never perfect my manly aura,” he chuckles dryly. “I can manage for a couple days. I’ll bribe happy and Natsu with free meals as an exchange to tire her out in the evenings, and find other bribes so we can get help teaching her manners and communication.”

Mira leans against his shoulder. “Please don’t use Happy and Natsu to teach her manners.” 

Again, he chuckles dryly and slings a massive arm around her shoulder. Neither moves until the numbness spreads up their shoulders and down their necks. finally, she sighs, slips from beneath his arm, and begins dragging herself back towards her bedroom. 

“I'd never confess this in public,” he says. “I love you, though, and appreciate the help.”

“I love you, too, and just so you know: telling someone that you love them is totally manly.” 

“A manly thing will be keeping the house standing while you're gone.” 

-

Mira wakes the next morning to a mostly intact apartment. Clothes are piled into a corner of the bathroom, barely safe from being splashed. Dirty dishes are soaking in now frigid water. A note sits on their kitchen counter, asking she he safe in her travels promising everything will be fine, and giving a rough description of the tavern, signed with Elfman's scribbled signature and some additions from Lucy. She writes a hurried response, packs a bag, and sets off. 

It seems now that everyone in town has become keen to the situation. Mira receives polite, sympathetic smiles and even accusational scowls. A part of her fights temptation to turn just a little too fast, whack them with her bag, and exclaim she's just leaving for a little bit. Instead, she gives them what she hopes are friendly smiles and continues on. 

Mira plays her usual travel games: create impossible questions no one would ever ask for a sorcerers weekly interview, count how many different shades she can spot, and practices changing faces. But she runs out of questions, everything becomes the same gray tone, and she has no more faces to change into. 

Buildings become further and further apart, and then become rubble. Groomed, plump animals become less and less frequent compared to the emaciated mangy ones growling, hissing, and scurrying from sight. Even the emaciated, mangy animals disappear as she comes closer and closer to the town. 

Their buildings are mostly intact. Several have aged poorly with obvious, amateur repairs. Broken glass and rust flakes cover the garbage Spilling from the alleyways. Someone appears to have attempted boarding windows once or twice but has admitted defeat after too many break-ins. 

Children, scrawny and dirty, pick through the tall garbage piles. One stands guard, appearing unbothered with her while the others openly panic and run to find protection. Waving does not convince them to come closer. Smiling does not convince them she is friendly or safe. The few adults she sees are just as scrawny, dirty, and as frightened looking as the children. 

Finally, she approaches an active building. screaming, laughter and demands for more alcohol, more food practically cause the building to vibrate she ducks into the alleyway and scans the ground. Any signs of her brother's footsteps have been buried under garbage and people wandering in and out of the alleyway, but it is definitely the tavern described. 

Squinting, she searches through the rust flakes and broken glass for anything other than garbage. 

It sits under some rotten food and a still dripping bottle. It must not have money or has already been cleaned out because this seems like the town where people are desperate enough to snatch a wallet wherever they can find it. 

The material is nice, and could probably fetch a decent amount of jewels in a pawn shop. It seems no here has use for things like pawn shops or fancy wallets, though. Inside are four keys, three gold, and one silver. 

“Celestial keys,” she murmurs. “Loke could know something, but he might just run when he sees these.” 

Mira stuffs the wallet into her bag and straightens up just as the back door is kicked open. A flushed man huffs and drags two overflowing garbage bags behind him. 

“Look, I've already told you and every other worker,” he says. “I've given Mister Heartfilia this months rent, last months rent, and will pay him again." 

“I have nothing to do with anyone named Mister Heartfilia,” she says. “You're the owner, right?” 

He nods but moves back towards the door. “No one can be served outside. You want a drink then come inside.” 

“I actually need to speak with you,” she says. “I have experience with serving and can help until closing. “ 

Now, he hesitates. Inside, people shriek and howl. it sounds like someone has either fallen or lost their drinking contest. Someone whines for more alcohol. Sighing, he motions for her to follow him, pausing to toss her a dirty apron. 

-

Closing time comes, passes, and she joins him in the cleaning process. Mira wipes down a table and watches his back as he flips chairs onto the tables. 

“I really don't know anyone named Mister Heartfilia,” she promises. “Who is he?” 

“Mister Heartfilia is attempting to buy our town,” he scoffs. “Were not a tourist attraction, stray children, and people are either living homeless or squatting in disgusting places. I haven't met him in person, because he always sends someone else in his place.” 

“What's his plans for the town?” 

“No one will discuss that with us. No one will allow us to discuss setting up a meeting with him either.”

He pauses, grimaces, and wipes his shining forehead. 

Mira clears her throat, resumes wiping her table, and does not give her questions a second thought. “I've never visited before but heard tales from family and friends. I noticed several children wandering the streets, and wanted to know: where are their parents? How do these children survive? What happens to the children unable to find groups?”

“Our nearest healer is several days travel, and no one has the jewels to afford it. Women either pass giving birth or during the pregnancy, which leaves the children to fend for themselves while their fathers seek comfort elsewhere. A few fathers send jewels back for their children, but most leave. Living parents do their best, but we don’t have a lot of work available.” 

“How do those street children survive?” 

“Children beg, steal, or exchange work for food, water, and somewhere safe to sleep. A child without siblings, skills, or group usually starve or worse, are beaten for their crimes and pass from the infections their wounds develop.” 

Now, her throat feels thick and her tongue is somehow too large for her mouth. Lucy could've – no, would've been one of those children. Worse, how many children hid from her expecting a beating because they were hungry or thirsty? 

“I know there are several children around here,” she says carefully. “I am looking for information on one, though. I know she had no group or siblings. I know she would search through garbage for food but ran away whenever someone saw her. I believe someone attempted helping her, but she didn't seem to understand anything and just repeated whatever she heard.”

His expression goes from recognition, sorrow, and then blank. “I remember her. I tried helping her by offering work in exchange for food, but she didn’t understand. I even attempted getting one of the better off families to take her in, but that never worked out. I've been searching for her, but it seems that she's gone.”

“Was she born here?”

“No, she wasn't, and people aren't fighting to move their families here,” he says. “I think someone dropped her here, whether hoping she would succumb to the environment, or they just wanted to be relieved from their parenting duties? I don't know.”

“Do you mean, she just showed up?”

“Like I said, no one is fighting to move their families here. A new person shows up here with clean clothes, combed hair, and shoes? A new person without communication or really any skills? No one will attempt taking her into their group.” 

“Who abandoned her?” 

“I don't know,” he sighs. “Do you know what happened to her?” 

Mira opens her mouth but is interrupted by a pounding on the door. Groaning, he moves for the door, shrugging apologetically. 

“Mister Heartfilia’s real people are here now,” he warns. “Do you need anything else?” 

Mira digs through her wallet, stuffs some jewels into his tip jar, and shakes her head. “I appreciate the patience, but should get back home to my brother and…”

A hulking man steps through the doorway without waiting for an invitation. Mira lifts her chin, swallows thickly, and repeats. “I appreciate the patience, but should get back to my brother and Lucy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> You better buckle up and brace for some feelings.


End file.
